Now the Noisy Winds Are Still

April's coming up the hill! All the spring is in her train, Led by shining ranks of rain; Pit, pat, patter, clatter, Sudden sun, and clatter, patter!— First the blue, and then the shower; Bursting bud, and smiling flower; Brooks set free with tinkling ring; Birds too full of song to sing; Crisp old leaves astir with pride, Where the timid violets hide,— All things ready with a will,— April's coming up the hill!